And it's time for me to write another one of those "update" things. Technically…it's not. I'm not late or anything at the moment, because I can't even post until I get my other update file from Jade and she's gone AWOL, so yeah. Now everyone has to suffer because of her likely broken internet connection, and therefore everyone should damn Comcast digital cable. Damn them and their stupid weak ass cable connection! Daaaaaaaaamn them! Okay, I feel done. Let's get to the good stuff.
*****
One More Try
Part 12
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Spike was sneaking into my room and watching me sleep. I knew this for a fact, and although I was sure that it was him jimmying the lock almost every night to check up on me, I might not have even noticed the fact that even though I locked the door at night, it was unlocked in the morning. I might not have noticed how certain things in my room were moving every now and then. Like a tube of lipstick that seemed to have found it's way from my bedside table all the way to the top of my dresser through no action of my own. I might not have noticed the way that sometimes when I woke up for a glass of water at night, more often than not Spike wasn't snoring loudly when I passed his room. I could have written all these things off as coincidences. Maybe I was too tired to lock the door right, and though I thought I had pressed the lock in, I had gone through the motions and gone to bed without doing it correctly. It would be perfectly reasonable to think that I had been using the lipstick and set it down somewhere else because I got distracted, and therefore didn't remember it happening. And just because Spike wasn't announcing his somnolent state to the rest of the ship with loud nasal breathing, that didn't mean that he wasn't sleeping. Even if he was suffering from a little insomnia, that was no business of mine, and I wouldn't have pursued it, I'm sure.
But he slipped up, you see. One morning, I woke up to see that Spike was in my chair, slumped over asleep in what looked like a hellishly uncomfortable position. Now, I'm a reasonably logical woman when it comes to most things. And though Spike usually likes to drive on the Logic Overpass, that didn't mean that I couldn't think about the situation reasonably. I was perfectly capable of puzzling it out about six hours later. But when I woke up and saw that, I had no idea what to do. I actually thought I was still asleep, having some weird dream which included Spike sleeping in my room, but after a few moments of blinking and then rubbing my eyes vigorously to make sure I was really seeing what I thought I was seeing, my mind confirmed that it was indeed Spike sleeping on my chair, for reasons that were completely beyond me. When I prompted my mind to come up with some course of action, it became disturbingly silent, until I realized that I had no idea what to do, and apparently the best course of action would be to try and go back to sleep. Perhaps when I woke up again, things would be normal this time.
This actually worked…sort of. When I woke up again, Spike wasn't there, but the chair smelled like him, so I knew that what I'd seen earlier had really happened. This really bothered me, but I couldn't possibly bring it up to Spike because…well, it was just too embarrassing. What had he been doing in there? I knew it couldn't be that my chair was more comfortable than sleeping in a bed, that was for sure. I decided that I'd just have to sleep light so that I could catch any further intrusions. So that night, I dozed lightly until I heard something that sounded suspiciously like the lock of my bedroom door being picked.
I knew it had to be Spike. I mean, really, who else would sneak into my room in the middle of the night? If Ed wanted in, she'd knock like a normal human being, as would Jet. Of course, Jet wouldn't visit in the middle of the night unless it was an emergency, whereas Ed was all too likely to try and get me up for checkers or something at a god awful hour. It had happened before, and it would happen again, I knew. Now, I wouldn't have thought Spike should show any interest in my room at all, day or night. But I knew him well enough to know that if he did want something in there, he'd be damn sneaky about getting it. Heaven forbid he ask my permission to borrow my perfume or go through my underwear or whatever it was he was doing in a girl's room in the middle of the night. I hate to sound so suspicious of his motives, but really, what the hell reason does a guy have to sneak into a lady's room at night? Twice, even? It obviously had to be something that I could tease him about later, or something that would cause me to smack him really hard. Probably both.
So imagine my surprise when my barely open eyes watched him come in, sit in the chair, and just stare at me. At first I thought that the tiny slit I was watching him through was glinting in the dim light, and he was acting innocent purely for my benefit. But then…what about the staring? If he'd been caught, you would have thought he'd make a run for it or try to give me some half-ass explanation about how he was auctioning my pantyhose off to lonely criminals in an effort to help ends meet or something like that. Hey, he'd actually suggested that once, though I was almost positive he was just trying to piss me off at the time. He wouldn't really auction off my personals…well, probably not.
Anyway, that's beside the point. What I'm trying to say here is that I caught him watching me sleep. I let my eyes close the rest of the way after he'd been sitting in that chair for a while, because I figured that if he got up and started raiding my makeup chest, I could hear it and stop him. However, he just…sat there. I didn't look at the clock, so I'm not really sure how long he was there, but when I did finally hear something, I peeked again to see that he was coming toward me, stifling a yawn so that he wouldn't wake me up with the noise of it. Yeah, I know. Really sneaky.
I wanted to sit up and say "Ah ha!" or something equally smug. Perhaps I could come up with some really snide comment about how if he wanted, I could tape myself sleeping and he could have the tape for the low price of a couple hundred bucks or something like that. However, even though my smartass bitch gland was going into overdrive with about a billion things I could say, the stupid girly part of my brain had temporarily paralyzed my entire body because it seemed that Spike was standing directly over me, leaning down to get a better look at my face. What was he doing anyway? I was still expecting this whole thing to turn into him raiding my room for spare cash or something like that, but as he leaned closer, I let my eyes close so that he wouldn't notice I was watching him. Could he tell I was awake? Was that why he was acting so strangely?
I felt his hand on my forehead, moving my hair back out of my face casually, and I had to fight the instant urge my eyes had to fly open and gape at him in shock. He didn't say anything, and even though I thought that he might, he didn't kiss me or try to molest me or anything like that. He just brushed my hair back and then left the room. I peeked again as he was closing the door just to be sure that he really was leaving, and then I sat up for half the night trying to figure out why the hell Spike would want to come in my room and watch me sleep. I mean, really, how entertaining could it be? I decided not to think about it, but the fact of the matter is that almost every morning after that, I would notice my unlocked door and feel this strange fluttering feeling to know that he'd been back, watching me sleep again.
This whole sleeping business really started to weigh on my mind, and I came up with the theory that since I was over seven months pregnant, he thought I was ready to pop and was just trying to make sure the baby didn't take me by surprise while I slept. However, this theory really seemed weak to me, so I decided to go to the only person who might have insight as to why men were stupid and made no sense. Jet.
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"What did Spike do this time?" Jet asked as he stood washing the dishes while I stared at his back, trying to say something less embarrassing than simply spilling the whole sleep-watching thing in one breath.
"Spike? What do you mean?" I asked, feigning innocence and batting my lashes. Batting my lashes helped me to act innocent. This is funny to me, since it also helps me act slutty. Maybe this only worked since I had pretty eyes, so if I distracted a man with them, my acting skills could be sub-par without being called into question. Who knows? As I just explained, men are stupid and make no sense.
"You've been standing at the counter trying to talk for about five minutes. The only topic you have a hard time blurting out your feelings about is Spike. So that must be what you want to talk about." Jet explained, turning to face me as he dried a plate.
Okay, I revise my previous statement. Some men are stupid and make no sense. Jet was dangerously perceptive, and it was coming to the point where if he was a bit less…masculine looking, I might have called his gender into question. Because really, men aren't supposed to understand emotions that well. It was starting to worry me. Maybe he was psychic, and he was just pretending to understand us. But really, maybe he was just that clever.
"Okay…I need to talk to you." I decided not to worry about sounding smart and calm about this. I had long since learned that Jet did not think I was extremely smart, and he never found me to be exceptionally calm, and he didn't seem to think this made me less of a person. Sometimes I wondered if Jet was a little hotter…maybe I could fall in love with him instead, as it seemed like the whole thing would go a lot smoother and would involve a lot less pain and secret keeping. However, I suspect that Jet's looks weren't really the problem. I mean, he wasn't that unattractive, compared to some of the guys I'd had to sleep with before. You know, debt collectors and things like that. Anyway, I think that what really sealed the deal between Jet and I was that Jet was far too stable and sane and not nearly as bad for me as Spike. I seem to have a problem with my ability to choose who I fall in love with. I need to pick the most impossible guy I can find. That's my ideal type.
"Got that." Jet nodded expectantly as he dried the silverware and began to put it away. "It is about Spike, isn't it?"
"Uh…yeah." I licked my lips and turned to the living room. I could still hear the shower running, so it seemed like he wouldn't hear anything that was going on unless he decided that he needed to be sneaky. He'd been doing that a lot lately, so it wouldn't be completely unprecedented. "See, I think he's up to something…no, I mean, I know he's up to something, but I'm not quite sure what, and I thought maybe you could help me figure it out."
"Okay." Jet was still the picture of patience, drying a cup and placing it in it's cupboard without showing any surprise or real interest in the conversation. He must have been sick of being the mediator between Spike and me. I mean, I knew that I talked to Jet quite a bit about Spike-ish problems, so I guess Spike probably did the same thing with me. At least, it seemed that way. Jet knew an awful lot about the inner workings of our relationship. Maybe more than we did.
"Okay, well," I darted another glance toward the living room. I could still hear the shower, so it was okay to continue. "I've been noticing lately…things go missing or they move across the room, and then my door, it's unlocked when I wake up. And Spike's not snoring a lot when I get a glass of water at night, so I didn't know…gah, that made no sense, did it?" I pressed a palm to my forehead in frustration. Jet only blinked at me and proceeded to put away a pot he'd just dried. "Okay, see, the thing is I didn't really notice this stuff…well, I kinda did, but I didn't think it meant anything, and then the other morning, Spike was sleeping in my chair. And I didn't really expect him to be there, so I just went back to sleep because I didn't know what to do…and then…I stayed up late and he keeps coming into my room at night. He sits there watching me, and I don't know what he's trying to do. Do you have a clue?"
"I don't see what the problem is." Jet answered after a moment. "You already know what he's doing in there."
"What…you mean watching me? But what's the point?" I had a suspicion that I knew exactly what the point was, but I was too terrified to even consider that possibility. I realized that what I really wanted was for Jet to tell me something about how Spike was hoping to poison me in my sleep or something like that so I could sleep easier. Yeah, I know, that makes a lot of sense. Welcome to my world.
"Faye, I've talked with you about this before." Jet's voice was weary as he tossed the towel back on the counter and poured himself some coffee from the fresh pot waiting there. "Spike cares about you a lot, and after what happened with Julia, it's not really surprising that he's afraid to be honest. Look what happened the last time he told a woman he loved her. It ended like that and I don't…" Jet trailed off as he turned around, and he seemed to be staring at a spot somewhere just beyond my left ear. At that point, I realized a bit too late that the water was no longer running in the bathroom. Suddenly, I was considering the likelihood of escaping any further discussion by faking a fainting spell in the middle of the kitchen. After a few moments of thinking how much it would hurt to fall with my added mass, I licked my lips and made a small noise of alarm before turning my head just slightly to the left. I was not surprised to see dripping wet dark green hair greeting me. Spike looked about as alarmed as I felt, but I could see the flash of anger there as well in his mismatched eyes. I stepped away out of pure reflex. I mean really, who could he be angry at besides me?
"Jet." Spike ground out the syllable with the fury I thought he would only ever direct at me. "What the hell is going on in here?"
"I just…" Jet actually sounded apologetic, but I was still wondering why Spike was so angry with him instead of me. Not that I'd really done anything wrong, but there it was. "She saw you…at night."
"She what?" Spike didn't sound so angry there, more like he'd just been told the coffee he'd had that morning was really nitro glycerin. "You were awake?" It took a few moments for me to realize that question was directed toward me, and with some wonder, I noticed that there wasn't a shred of anger in the words. They were nothing but full-fledged panic.
"I…saw you." Wow, that was brilliant Faye. And so utterly calm. Although, to my credit, his eyes were very unsettling at that moment, so I think I was allowed a bit of idiocy. There was a long silence then, and I knew that Spike was desperately trying to come up with some explanation as to why he was making nightly trips to my bedroom to watch me sleep. It was giving him a lot of difficulty, and eventually, Jet spoke up again.
"Don't lie to her, Spike." He advised, still looking a bit shocked that Spike had walked in on the conversation. "You should tell her how you feel."
"What the hell would you know!?" Spike exploded, turning on Jet with all the anger I'd ever seen him direct at me on those occasions where I hit a nerve. Usually, a nerve named Julia. "I never said that…and you can't just say things like that! What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
"She's not the same, Spike!" Jet shouted back, obviously a bit defensive because of the towel-clad menace moving toward him. "It's not like with Julia! Don't lie to her because of what happened with some other woman!"
"You're right! She's not Julia, and she never will be!" Spike and Jet seemed to have utterly forgotten that I was standing not two feet away from them. They were arguing over me like I wasn't there to hear it, but it still stung me deep to be compared to Julia. I knew I'd never be like Julia to Spike, but did they have to make it so utterly plain? "Don't act like all I need to get over that is a quick fuck with some slut! You never knew her, you don't know what it's like!"
"I knew her…" my voice was quiet, and I wondered if they could hear me, but I didn't have to wonder long. The sound of my voice cut through their argument like a finely honed knife, and they both turned to look at me as though surprised to see me still there. They seemed to be waiting for me to say something, so I put on a brave smile and nodded at Spike. "You're right, I know that. I'm…tired." I excused myself quickly, moving as fast as my stomach would allow and not stopping until I had locked my door behind me. I hadn't yelled at him, and that struck me as amazing when I paused to think about it, irritated at the tears that were spilling down my cheeks one after another. At least no one could see me cry.
"Faye!" Spike's voice broke through my self-reflection long enough for me to straighten up and wipe my eyes. He was pounding on my door, his voice worried enough that I almost hadn't recognized it as Spike at all. "Open up, come on."
"Go away, I'm tired." I told him, hoping I didn't sound like I'd been crying. Moving over to my bed, I sat down on it and leaned against the wall, hoping he'd just listen to me and go away. I really didn't feel like a conversation that confirmed over and over again the fact that I was not as good as Julia and never would be. He probably wanted our baby to be blonde so he could pretend it was hers instead of mine. I hated that man so much.
"Faye, just let me in." He repeated, sounding a bit calmer, but still rather urgent. I did not dignify his request with a response, but apparently he took my silence to mean that he was welcome to jimmy my lock. Well, it must have been easy enough with all the practice he'd gotten lately. I didn't even bother to look up at him as he stood in the doorway, though I could tell even from where I was that he'd taken the time to pull on a shirt and some boxers. That was good, since I wasn't really in the mood for a conversation with half-naked Spike. No doubt he had some smug asshole expression on his face anyway, and I wasn't really in the mood. "Faye," he was still standing in the doorway, and I wondered if he was waiting for an invitation. I picked up my pillow and tossed it at him.
"Get out." I told him, my tones icy and slightly sullen. "And stop doing that to my door or I'll get a new lock."
"Faye, you have to talk to me." He insisted, stepping inside and picking up my pillow.
"No I don't." I insisted. "I don't have to do anything. I don't owe you anything, so just get out and leave me alone."
"Faye! Fuck, stop being a bitch and just let me talk to you." He sounded pretty irritated, not that I cared if he was upset. He deserved it.
"Why? So you can explain why Julia's so much better than me and why you'll never stop loving her and you just don't give a shit about me? No thanks, I already know." I clenched my teeth angrily as he sat down next to me, setting the pillow down. Edging away from him, I crossed my arms and avoided his gaze angrily.
"Faye, don't be stupid." Spike sounded angry still, but it was worn out, stretched thin like he just couldn't find a reason to stay angry anymore. "Would you just listen to me?"
"Make it quick." I answered finally.
"Don't misunderstand me." He began after blinking at me a few times, obviously trying to sort out his thoughts. "Just because we had that one night…that doesn't mean anything."
"You don't have to tell me that." I replied angrily. "You've made it pretty fucking clear already."
"Then…we understand each other?" Spike asked, and something about his voice was odd. I glanced up and the look he was shooting me was somewhere between relief and pleading. What did he want me to say?
"Except for your little night trips, everything seems simple enough." And the award for best actress goes to the amazing Faye Valentine.
"Okay…well, about that." Spike seemed to be casting about for some explanation as I watched him expectantly. This was going to be interesting, I was sure. "I was…just…"
"Watching me sleep? Yeah, I got that." I retrieved my pillow and set it back at the head of my bed, patting it down meticulously. "What's up with that? Obviously you don't agree with Jet's interpretation."
"That's not it!" the mention of Jet got Spike's defenses up once more. "Jet makes a lot of assumptions, and sometimes he's just totally wrong. I mean, I like you…cause you're my friend and all that. I don't want there to be weirdness between us, though. And you know how I felt about Julia."
"How you feel." I corrected.
"Uh, yeah, exactly." Spike paled a little bit to notice that he had put it in the past tense. "What I mean to say is that there just isn't room for anything else in my life right now."
"Oh, of course not." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Since you've got so many dates with Julia, that takes up all your time, I'm sure. And I'll let the baby know that as much as you'd like to love it as you should, you haven't got room for that sort of thing. Dead girlfriends are very demanding on your schedule."
"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Spike snapped, twisting toward me as his eyes flamed in angry frustration. Oh yes, I was being a bitch. I'll be the first to admit it, but I think he deserved it for once. "Can't you just…try to be fucking reasonable here?"
"Fine, fine." I idly patted my swollen stomach. "So what you're saying is there's room for the baby, but not for me."
"No…I just…and you can't…" Spike's hands found their way to his hair, rubbing against his head as he tried to think of a thoughtful sounding answer. "It's my kid too."
"Yeah, but you have to share it with me." I reminded him. "We have to come to some sort of a decision, Spike. We can't be at each other's throats constantly once the baby comes. It could be damaging, you know. You should know how friction like that can hurt the kid more than anyone else." I shouldn't have made a reference to his past, but I couldn't help it. I was pissed at him for pretending like there was nothing between us, and all that staring and protective crap was just the normal friend behavior. I have to say that since I woke up from cold sleep, I haven't had a lot of real friends, but I can tell you one thing. They don't sneak into your room at night to watch you sleep. I'm pretty fucking sure of that.
"Faye…don't push me." Spike's voice was almost frightened, as if he was seeing the scenes of his childhood flash before his eyes, perhaps with his parents' faces replaced with our own. "You know that something…like that. You know I wouldn't ever ever let that happen. Ever."
"I know." I admitted. And yet, that guy married his mom. So why wasn't I getting any love confessions, or at least a nice admission of emotional confusion? I don't know when I decided that Spike was just obviously in love with me, but at this point, I was stubbornly set on not saying a damn thing to him until he could get his head out of his ass and admit to his own feelings. Like that would ever happen. I'm such a masochist sometimes. I mean, I fell in love with Spike in the first place. That should indicate my attraction to self-inflicted misery. "But if you want to be this kid's father, I'd really rather we were on speaking terms when it's born."
"We're talking right now." Spike chose that moment to play the insufferable idiot, so I reached over and pinched his arm as hard as I could. Sadly, he only made a slight noise of pain at this.
"You know what I mean." I leveled a dry stare at him. "Do you really want to be involved in this baby's life?"
"Didn't I already tell you?" Spike was getting a bit antsy now. "Would you stop holding that baby over me like some fucking threat? Do you want me to be a father, or do you just like fucking with me?" I didn't really know what to say to that, so I only stared at him until he continued. "Look, whatever Jet thinks…I love Julia, and that's it. I like you, Faye, but you're not the same. I want to be part of the baby's life, but that doesn't mean I feel anything more for you. It matters to me, okay? But if you're going to keep threatening to take it away, I'll leave. I'll disappear, and you won't ever find me. Don't think that I can't make it happen, either. I've done it before and I'll leave this world too, if that's the way you want it."
"You think I want that?" my eyes goggled. I couldn't believe he was even suggesting leaving the Bebop. Leaving me.
"What do you want?" he asked, a challenge in his eyes that demanded at least some level of honesty from me. I wanted to say so many things right then. I wanted to tell him how I felt, despite my determination to make sure he could admit his feelings before I would give an inch. I wanted to explain to him that I felt safer somehow knowing that he watched me sleep. Not that I'd ever really thought someone would come attack me in the middle of the night, but there it was. I wanted to say that no matter how I threatened to keep my baby from him, I could never really do anything like that to him, even if it meant scarring the poor child for life with all our fighting. I wanted to tell him that if he left me, I'd die inside and I'd never be able to raise the baby into anything resembling a happy, normal human being. I wanted to burst into tears and hug him so tight that he couldn't leave. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how it killed me knowing that I'd always be second to Julia.
"I…don't want you to go." I managed to work the words out as a million thoughts swirled through my mind. I couldn't believe how stupid that sounded compared to all the heartfelt entreaties swirling through my thoughts. Why was I such an idiot when it came to Spike? He was looking at me expectantly, and the silence between us felt unbearably awkward. "Would you really leave?"
"If that's what you wanted." He told me, and I was terrified to find that his level stare seemed to be causing my cheeks to go a rather embarrassing shade of red.
"Just…because I said so…you'd leave?" I hoped desperately that he wouldn't realize I was blushing, even though I could feel the heat radiating off my face as though my cheeks were on fire.
"I don't need to be here." He answered.
"What about Jet? He's your friend, and you'd leave just like that?" I didn't know why this whole topic was causing me to blush so horribly, but that's exactly what I was doing.
"He doesn't need me around." Spike told me. "None of you guys need me here. But no one wants me to leave either, so I just stay."
"I need…I don't want you to leave." I stopped myself from saying that I needed him. I wouldn't be the weak one here. I wouldn't. I hated caring about him so much, and it would only be worse if he knew what a hold he had over me. "No one needs me here, either. I could leave instead. You were here first, after all." And there I went, being a doormat again. Why I couldn't just shut the hell up for five minutes…
"You're in no condition to be on your own." Spike told me. "What kind of a man would I be if I let you try to take care of that baby by yourself?"
"A normal one?" I guessed. I knew without a doubt that any of the other men that could have impregnated me would have disappeared impossibly fast if I'd have told them of my condition. What were the chances that the one time nature beat out contraceptive science, I'd be with a guy who had a shred of honor?
"I'm not like that." Spike put a hand on top of my head and pulled me into a loose hug. I didn't know what else to do, so I just enjoyed it, letting my hands rest against his arms as he continued to speak. "You have to know that whatever else there is to deal with, I want to be there with you." I sighed and closed my eyes, knowing that those words were likely the closest I'd ever get to a love confession. Oh well.
"I think you should know," I whispered, staring at his left arm and picking at the sleeve of his shirt with my fingers. "I'm in love with you." His arms went tense then, and all the fears that I had about confessing came back into sharp focus. What if he laughed at me? What if he pushed me away? Had I just ruined everything we had? "Is…that a problem?" I wanted him to say something, anything at all. I was afraid of the silence, as I didn't know what it meant. But then, when I thought that maybe he just hadn't heard me, he tightened the hug and kissed the top of my head before letting go of me. What did that mean? Was he going to confess now after all?
"I'm sorry." He smiled at me sadly before getting up and leaving. I didn't know what to say, what to think or feel about his apology. I had a pretty good idea of what it meant, and then, as I sat there staring at my closed door, I realized that I was crying. Stupid man.
*****
The End (Of Part 12, That Is)